"Hateful," the girl spat, leaning on her wooden broom as her almond-shaped eyes silently glare at the door. "Those classmates of yours are really hateful, Isogai," she tells the raven head, a disgusted snarl on her usually motherly face.

Isogai Yuma dubbed an ikemen by his classmates, and also the male class representative of 3-E, bashfully rubbed his nape, a wry smile on his face upon hearing his Senior's words. He let a forced chuckle slip past his lips before carefully bowing at the older girl. "I'm sorry, Matsuoka-senpai, I'll be more careful next time," he quickly apologized, ignoring his classmates' bemused and annoyed expressions.

Matsuoka pursed her lips, she sighed. A hand to rub her temples while the other held the broom, she gave the raven head a complicated look. "Isogai," she sternly called out, making both the male and his classmates tense up. "Are you a wimp?"

Her words fell like a hammer on Yuma's shoulder, breaking his male ego to pieces. He felt saddened by her words, but he couldn't find it in himself to refute them— he had, after all, acted as one not so long ago.

The girl saw that her colleague wouldn't answer her and only bend to her claims, and she heaved a loud, heavy sigh. "You, how are you supposed to do anything if you can't stand up for yourself?" she barked, an imposing aura oozing from her. "Listen well, Isogai. If you don't man up quick, then I'll make you a man!" she threatened.

Her words brought a fervent blush to Yuma's cheeks. "Ah, oh, uh, I-I mean— I— Uhm, Matsuoka-senpai," he cried, his hands covering his carmine red face. He could hear some of his classmates' whistle at her words, further enhancing his embarrassment.

Matsuko was a pretty girl. With waist long light brown hair, a pair of almond-shaped chestnut brown eyes framed by thick lashes, and a petite round face, she gave off and calm and mature air. Like Yuma, she was a part-timer and a student. Although she attended High School and only knew Kunugigaoka from its prestigious reputation, she never attended the Middle School and therefore wasn't aware of 3-E's discrimination until she met Yuma.

The girl raised a dubious eyebrow upon noticing his reaction. She swept the remaining teenagers with her gaze, noticing something was amiss. Mutely, she reviewed what she said that may elicit this reaction, and when she found out, she deadpanned.

"You, is your mind in the gutter? Shall I help you climb out of it?" she asked, a bright smile on her face as her voice dripped with amusement and mild mockery.

Hearing Matsuoka point his thoughts out, Yuma's blush grew darker.

Matsuoka gave him a defeated look. She gave the taller a pat on the shoulder, not really knowing what to say before she sighed. "Don't worry, you're too young, and you're not my type either," she reminded him with a perfect smile— one that, if Mitsukuni was here, would be qualified as Host quality without a doubt.

::

"Whoah, are those your friends, Shu-chan?" Mitsukuni marveled, trying to measure their height from his average 160 centimeters. He squeezed Reiko tighter, feeling the need to keep her away from the four colossi and curiously seized them up. His eyes minutely sharpened, a feral glint coursing through them, he licked his upper lip. They looked like fun opponents.

Gakushu noticed the blond as soon as he entered his vicinity. It was like a radar specifically made to find out Mitsukuni, whenever he was in a radius of ten meters from him, he would find him. He interrupted his talk with the Korean basketball player, slipping back to Japanese as he ushered his childhood friend to come closer. He could see Mitsukuni's curiosity from miles away and decided to introduce them while he was at it.

The appearance of a midget— because compared to their height, Mitsukuni was truly short, brought the quatuor's attention away from their Japanese friend. Noticing the black plush in the boy's arms, they raised a dubious eyebrow.

"Here, Mitsukuni, let me introduce you," Gakushu said as he brought his arm around the strawberry blond's shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. It wasn't simple skinship, this hug held strong symbolic meaning in front of the foreigners. It was similar to Gakushu affixing his stamp on Mitsukuni, telling them to be careful and that he was off-limit, part of his people.

This simple gesture made the four teenagers with adult-like figures take another probing look at the inoffensive looking boy. This person was someone Gakushu acknowledged, they simultaneously thought.

"These are my friends from abroad," he said, motioning to the four giants behind him. "Sang Hyuk from Korea is a rising star in the basketball world. Kevin is from America and is part of the American junior high football representatives. José is the son of an international fighter from Brazil—" he saw the way Mitsukuni perked up at the word fighter, and a smile crept up his face. "And Camille is the next generation ace of a wrestling gym in France," he finished. Mitsukuni was almost glowing by the end of the introduction.

The son of a fighter and an up and coming wrestler— weren't they the perfect potential opponents?

Mitsukuni beamed at the boys, showing off his pearly whites. "Hello, my name is Kannazuki Mitsukuni, you can call me Mitsukuni," he first said in English, and then as if it was the most natural thing to do, he repeated his introduction in fluent French, Korean and Portuguese.

The four stared at the small boy with small smiles dancing on their lips. The way he acted didn't fit the look in his eyes— that was the thought shared by the four foreigners. They could almost feel the teen dissecting and gauging them with his eyes— it made them both shiver in fright and anticipation.

"Are they going to join us for the athletic festival this year, Shu-chan?" Mitsukuni asked with a grin, squeezing Reiko as he balanced his weight from feet to feet, disregarding the inquiring eyes of the massive teenagers.

Mitsukuni's question brought a calculative smile on Gakushu's lips as he remembered his encounter with 3-E's representative a few days ago. He grinned, lightly chuckling as he petted the strawberry blond's fluffy hair. "Why yes, they are part of the class until their exchange comes to an end," he seconded.

Mitsukuni hummed, slightly narrowing his doe eyes at his childhood friend. What was he plotting this time? He wondered with a childish pout on his lips. He brought Reiko closer to his nose, nuzzled her neck, and took in her comforting and familiar fragrance. Did Gakushu plan on getting back to 3-E with the athletic festival?

The idea didn't sound too far fetched, but Mitsukuni didn't care much for it. Sure, he despised losing more than anything else, but with Takashi back in the picture, his contained maturity slowly made its way back, balancing his childish enthusiasm. 

Then again, from what Takashi told him, he would be in the audience, he didn't want to show his best friend some shameful display. With these thoughts, Mitsukuni resolved himself to bring victory to his class— though for reasons completely different than Gakushu's.

After all, Mitsukuni wasn't there when the Virtuosi stumbled upon Yuma's workplace. Nor was he here when Gakushu challenged them with Yuma's work at stake. He wasn't aware that if 3-E lost, Yuma would be reported to the headmaster for his part-time job, lest he resigned.

Otherwise, his attention wouldn't be on the athletic festival but his former friend and underclassman.

::

With a mindset set on winning, days passed, and soon the festival began. Chatter and laughter spread through the school ground throughout the day, closely following each event before they got frowned into cheers for the winners.

Mitsukuni stretched, oddly silent and focused as he regulated his breathing. He hadn't participated in any of the events, and only signed up for the final event: the game of Boutaoshi.

The goal was simple enough, get the enemy team's pole to fall down. To do so, everything was allowed, apart from hitting, kicking, and weaponry. It was easy enough to understand for a game that could easily get needlessly violent.

Mitsukuni breathed, he remembered his childhood friend's scheme, the way he wanted to thoroughly crush 3-E's body and spirit before bringing them down and "back to where they belonged." He didn't say a word regarding Gakushu's stratagem— he wasn't part of it.

Maybe because Gakushu knew he wouldn't agree to it as Karma was on the other side. Or perhaps because he didn't trust him to follow his every order, Mitsukuni didn't belong to any battalion. He was like a lone soldier or general, left alone to do his deeds by the rest of the army.

He didn't care much. His goal was a swift victory.

Although it would have been easier with the rest of 3-A giving a hand, Mitsukuni was confident in his Martial Art. It wasn't baseless confidence or pointless boasting, it was the might of someone who knew both victory and defeat. Someone that could gauge his opponent's strength, use it against them, and bring them to the ground.

Mitsukuni was insanely strong, and he knew it. He was at the level of a monster, in this world, there probably wasn't a lot of people that could beat him in hand to hand combat. He didn't think some teenagers, even if they received army training, could go against him. Be it strength, wisdom, or experience, he beat them all.

He wasn't acting full of himself. Even Takashi, no matter how much of a genius he was, would bow to his Martial Arts. It was the course of things, his cheat in life.

The whistle sounded, and at once, Gakushu began the offensive. Mitsukuni observed. There was no need for him to attack right now. He was strong, but not foolish. He knew that although he could take 3-E down with Martial arts alone, it wouldn't be productive.

His advantage would come later, once everyone was in a disarray. The first thing he did, was take off the helmet and black sleeved jacket. Both were provided by the school for the main building teams only. Although it lessened his "defense" it allowed him to mingle with the enemy more easily. Left with his sportswear and colored bandana— the only thing that linked him to his team, Mitsukuni dashed away, getting into an inconspicuous corner. He waited.

And as planned, his opportunity came. Out of all the 3-E students, only two remained to guard the pole, all the others far too busy attacking Gakushu. He would be quick and swift.

At once, he dashed forward, leaving behind an afterimage. He didn't take time to ponder on his course of action. Obviously, the weakest was the glasses student— Takebayashi, his former classmate for a week, how nostalgic.

Without much surprises, the moment he emerged from the shadow, 3-E noticed him. But who told Mitsukuni to be so fast and nimble? In a matter of seconds, he tripped the glasses-wearing teen. Taking advantage of his disrupted balance, he grabbed the male and sent him tumbling on the pile of 3-A student with a clean shoulder throw.

Only one student was left, difficulty holding the pole up as some 3-A students began to get up. What to say, it didn't take more than a second to have the 3-E pole fall to the ground, 3-A's pole following closely behind.

3-A's victory was as abrupt as it was expected.

3-E's loss was as despairing as it was awaited.

Their feelings were lukewarm on both sides. On 3-E's side, students were bemused, unbelieving, and disappointed, it was a strong hit to their moral as well as an impending punishment for their class representative.

For 3-A, there were people like Gakushu, who felt victory was a bit bitter. As if they shouldn't have won if the flow had followed its course. It was different from tasting defeat, but there was an undeniable lingering taste of loss in their mouth. And then there was Mitsukuni, happily beaming as he ran out of the stadium to meet up with his former cousin, eager to share his victory.

::

"So you resigned?" Maehara Hiroto, the class' "playboy" asked with a saddened face.

Yuma gave a small nod, a somewhat depressed and resigned smile on his face. "Well, Asano gave me the choice," he explained, lightly scratching his cheek. "I didn't think he would give me a chance, so I was quite surprised," he tried to comfort with some positivity.

"I'm sorry," Yuma looked up to see Itona's golden eyes. He didn't think Terasaka's new addition would apologize to him. "If I jumped faster, 3-A would have lost," he said. He was the one responsible for 3-A's fall and couldn't help but think he was too slow, had he been faster, victory would have been their's

Yuma dismissed the words with a wave of his hand, a genuine smile on his lips. "Nah, don't worry. You couldn't have guessed that they kept a reserve player anyway, as the leader and strategist, it's my fault for excluding the possibility."

Nagisa who sat on the side, like his other classmates, couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. If they had been more careful, faster, stronger, they would have won without a doubt.

"Still," Meg couldn't help but speak up. "Won't it get harder for you now that you can't work at the café anymore?" she asked, evident worry tinting her voice.

"Ah, this," Yuma's eyes fell to his desk, letting silence to settle for some seconds. "Well, I told my Senpai at work about it, and she proposed me some tutoring job," he explained. "Although it doesn't pay as much as the café, Senpai introduced me so I was able to get some advantages," he bashfully explained.

"Whaat, and here we were getting worried for you, you shitty-ikemen!" Maehara teased as he hit Yuma's back. "Look how scared we got, we were about to raise some funds for you, man," he joked.

"Haha, my bad."

The door slid open, interrupting the class' bantering. Entered a tall familiar figure, one that brought back with it the lingering taste of defeat. The adult seemed unbothered by the shift in the atmosphere. Now was his shift, he would give classes the way he was asked to.

Takashi came to a stop in front of the teacher's desk. He sat his leather suitcase and pulled out a book on anatomy. "Your homeroom isn't there today, so I will assure your science class," he said. For most of the 3-E students, they never heard him speak so much.

"Questions?"

Seeing as there was none and that the students weren't about to raise the subject of Mitsukuni celebrating his win with him, Takashi turned to the board. "Today, we will study human anatomy and its peculiarity."

He didn't think the students were angry with him. They only needed a bit of time to assimilate that he had a life outside of the military.

After all, he wasn't some robot that went back into its closet once done with his day.